As Clear As Mud
by Rachel Wilder
Summary: A missing scene from Mud Bowl


Coach looked over across the settlement table and pointed at Jason and nodded. Jason nodded back.

It was done.

Now they could all begin to live their lives again.

* * *

Jason's phone beeped and he looked down, flashing a look of apology at the other people in the corner of the library. That was another thing about breaking your neck—it wasn't like you could put the phone on vibrate and stick it in your pants pocket.

He flipped open the phone and looked at the text message.

_Meet me before the game—Coach_

Jason set the phone down and chewed on the little piece of hangnail on his thumb. What did the coach want? Tim had told him about the new field. The team was out there right now, putting the finishing touches on the field and doing some final drills before the game.

He wondered for a moment where Lyla was, what she was doing. School was still out for the rest of the week. He wasn't quite ready to eat crow in front of her, but he'd gotten himself out of the lawsuit and frankly, he'd gotten off the couch and out of the house. He wasn't real sure where to go, but sitting here in the library seemed like it was a reputable thing for a guy getting his act together to be doing.

Jason looked down at his watch. It was half past two. Only a few more hours until the game. Only a few more hours until he found out what coach wanted.

* * *

"Be sure you bring a coat, Jason," his mother called from the kitchen. "It's going to rain."

Jason rolled his eyes. It was like he was eight years old again. Take a coat. Take your medicine. Set your brakes. Don't get too hot. Don't get too cold. Drink your water. Take your pills. She was up in his business 24/7.

"Did you find that rain poncho?" his mom asked as she walked in his room.

Jason finished pulling his fleece jacket over his head. "I'll be fine, Mom and no, I'm not wearing some rain poncho…plus, I can't push my chair with that thing on." He just wanted to get out to the field—course what if coach didn't want him to be with the team? If he wanted Jason down by the team, wouldn't he have said that?

"You won't be able to push on that ground if it gets soft anyway. We should get you…"

"Don't even go there," Jason warned her. If she brought up a power chair or scooter or anything like that one more time… "It's going to be fine. I'm gonna be on the sidelines. Nothing will happen."

His mom took a deep breath and nodded at him. He could see the lines where she had tightened her lips into a narrow smile. He was pretty sure he could read her mind, too.

_Sure, nothing will happen—'cause that's what they told us when you got your neck broken. Someone will trip, a ball will go wild, they'll knock you down and you'll die. _

But he couldn't protect his mom from ever having a scary thought again. That was exactly what Lyla had been saying to him. It was time to stop being scared and feeling sorry for himself. It was time to buck up and live again.

* * *

"So, we'll meet you after the game?" Jason's dad asked as he pulled the van onto the grass near the fence around Dillon's newest football stadium.

"Yeah," Jason replied. He waited while his dad let down the lift, then pushed out onto the grass. His mom was right—it was hard going on the soft ground, but heck if he was going to let her see that he needed help. He'd get on that field if it finished his shoulders off for the night.

"Have fun!" his mom called as he wheeled his chair toward the team's entrance. He lifted his hand and waved back at them. They meant well—they really did.

He pushed his hands down against the wheels, willing them to go just a couple of inches further on this push when he suddenly moved much more easily. He tipped his head back and caught sight of Tim behind him, his hands on the backrest of Jason's chair.

"You tryin' to sneak in for free?" Tim asked as they went through the team gate.

"Nah, coach told me to come by before the game," Jason replied, trying to sound casual. Should he even be going in the team gate?

"Think he knows you've been workin' with Saracen?"

Jason shrugged. "I don't know—probably not. He hasn't really talked to me since the whole lawsuit thing started."

"But that's over now, right?" Tim asked.

"Yeah," Jason replied. Wow, news really did get around this town fast.

"Good," Tim answered.

They had never talked about it, but Jason didn't take Tim's comment to mean that Tim was upset about the lawsuit. It was just another thing that had divided them since the accident. But all of that was done and over with now and they could get back to their lives—back to being friends.

"Jason."

Jason looked up to see Coach Taylor standing in front of him.

"Glad to have you here, son," Taylor said as he held out his hand.

Jason reached his own hand up to offer a handshake. The coach paused, then put his hand around Jason's curled fingers.

"Nice field," Jason said, looking across the chalked lines marking the 100 yards from end zone to end zone.

"Boys did a nice job," the coach answered in that clipped tone he got before a big game.

Coach was tense. Jason could see it.

"So, come down, watch the game with the team," the coach invited him.

"I thought you didn't let cheerleaders down by the team anymore," Jason replied.

The coach shook his head. "Nope, no cheerleaders. Only team captains."

The coach looked down at Jason. "I'm hopin' you'll stand down by Matt—give him a little feedback if he needs it."

Jason's eyes widened. Coach Taylor was asking him to help coach? He nodded. "Sure, coach."

"Good. Well, see you boys in a couple of minutes," Taylor said as he began to walk back toward the rest of the coaches.

"Coach sees all, knows all," Tim said as he began pushing Jason's chair again toward the team's bench.

"Guess so," Jason replied. He looked up at the sky, at the lights on the field. His mom was right—he should have brought a jacket. It was definitely going to rain before they got home that night.

And it was going to get muddy. Saracen was going to have to get the ball in the air because running the ball was going to be nearly impossible. It was like the game against Arnett Meade his sophomore year…

Coaching. Huh. He looked down the field where Lyla was with the rest of the cheerleaders. The band was warming up behind the stands, ready to play as the team ran out onto the turf. He could feel the anticipation of the kick-off coming off the fans as they shifted in the makeshift stands, people still jockeying for position in this new venue. The Brandt Vikings were a good team, but Dillon could taste the state finals. A shiver went down his spine as he realized he hadn't felt like this since the first game of the season.

It would never be like it was before, but maybe there was a way for him to still be a Panther after all.

/fin/

* * *

**Author's Notes: ** Many thanks to my beta, Shelbecat . This has been a long hard week. I'm just glad to have great friends that I've met through fandom to share the highs and the lows with. 


End file.
